


Fashion Sins

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Post-Sirius in Azkaban, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus disapproves of the fickle trends of fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashion Sins

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

"Do people get paid for designing this rubbish?" An aggrieved Remus 

blurted indignantly.

Harry glanced up from one of his summer holiday assignments, an essay on Lethifolds. But, as Remus was glaring at the glossy pages of Wizards' Quarterly and not at either of the other two people at the table, he assumed it was a rhetorical question and silently returned to his writing.

Across from him, Sirius did not lift his eyes from his perusal of the Daily Prophet, but he made commiserating noises. "Do the autumn styles not appeal to you, Moony?"

"Appeal to me?! Look at this!" He shoved the pages into Sirius' face, almost bouncing the magazine off the perfect, aquiline nose. With a quiet sigh, Sirius leaned back to avoid painfully crossing his eyes to see whatever was getting Remus' classic fashion sense into a lather. Now that Remus had a steady income, his wardrobe had considerably improved from his days as the shabby professor. However, his style was firmly conservative, so the more outlandish designs

foisted upon the clothes-buying public tended to set him off. "Would you wear this? Yellow and orange plaid outer robe, ugly as sin to begin with, over this wrinkly, long, under-thing in a perfectly revolting chartreuse! You'd look like some sort of mutant fruit. It makes me long for blindness!"

"Yellow is not a good color for me, regardless of the degree of mutation or the type of fruit." Sirius replied mildly, returning to his newspaper. Harry smothered an amused snort.

Remus huffed and rolled his eyes at his lover's willful refusal to acknowledge the designer sins so blatantly displayed. Snatching the magazine back, he muttered under his breath, flipping the pages with such force that his fingers were in danger of being ripped to shreds with lethal paper cuts. Through it all, the posing wizard models pouted and preened as they hip-swayed through the photos.

"Remus, can I ask you a question?" Harry interrupted him.

"Of course, Harry," Remus replied, making an effort to curb his riled state.

"Since the clothing spreads always make you crazy, why don't you skip over them?"

Sirius remained focused on his paper, but his brows arched expressively and his head tilted to one side in a brief nod that gave eloquent non-verbal support to Harry's sentiments.

Remus frowned at his uncooperative lover, but attempted to explain his irritated curiosity.

"Because...because I know they're there. I **have** to look at them. It's like watching an accident unfold, or seeing the potion in your cauldron suddenly boiling up and over in an uncontrollable eruption. There's nothing you can do to stop it so your only option is to observe in horrified fascination."

His glowing hazel eyes suddenly pounced on additional fashion offenses, setting off another fizz of indignation. "And these utterly useless, ridiculous accessories! Look at this! Ankle cuffs! With tiny bells sewn on! You'd sound like Santa's reindeer swanning about wearing these! Really! Sirius, would you **ever** prance down the street in something like this?"

Sirius neatly folded his paper as he rose gracefully from the table. "I never prance, Remus, so I would hardly do the cuffs justice. I'm leaving you two to your fashion critique, as I have some bills to pay."

Doggedly, Remus made one final effort to awaken Sirius' clothing outrage. "Would you wear them if I bought them for you?"

The tall, black-haired wizard left the room with his usual predatory walk that attracted glances no matter what he wore. "Remus, I would wear a grass skirt and a Wonderbra, if that’s what you wanted," he said, vanishing down the hall.

Harry's head snapped up. "Where did **that** come from?" He realized by now that his godfather had a gift for the unexpected, but sometimes Sirius' mental processes made leaps that left Harry completely at sea. Although, perhaps the closet in the master bedroom contained a whole

collection of...Harry's brain shied away from the thought. 

Remus was staring at the empty doorway. "I have no idea."

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~

Regretfully, he finally had to break the kiss, or pass out from lack of oxygen. With a moist smack, their mouths parted and both sucked in a lungful of air. Remus smiled down at the wantonly satisfied expression on Sirius' face. He always looked so good after sex. Lips slightly parted, resting from their frenzied activities, they appeared tender, not quite bruised, almost swollen. Like a rose that has bloomed a shade beyond its peak, the energy and life contained within

spreading its petals gloriously wide, enveloping all who come close with its seductive scent, balanced at the edge of enticing perfection. As he watched, the lips slowly curved in a sinuous flex, posing, showing off, and exhibiting a wicked sensuousness just like those models in the magazine. Except that these lips delivered what they promised. Wanting to feast more than his eyes, Remus once more covered that inviting mouth with his own.

Time drifted meaninglessly as they floated in a sea of touch. Languorous, drifting hands coasted across swells of skin or whispered through waves of hair. Black, thick, tawny, sleek, gray, smooth 

skeins of silken ribbons hissed through their fingers. And through it all, kisses. Kisses without end.

Remus moaned quietly, half contentment and half regret. He raised his head up, separating them again. Below him in the gentle candlelight, tendrils of black hair spread across the pillow in a shimmering satin halo surrounding the face he found endlessly attractive. He shifted his body, finally sliding off Sirius and onto the sheets. "I have to get some sleep, love. I've got to meet Bill Weasley and Mundungus Fletcher in London tomorrow."

"Oh, yes. The Goblin project," Sirius responded, eyes already half-closed. He snaked his arms around Remus, pulling him close. "Just promise me you won't run off with either of them."

"Not bloody likely. Fletcher's insane and young Weasley is, well, too young. Although..."

That got a response. The sleepy light eyes shot open. " 'Although?' Although what? Although...if he's interested? Although...he's a sexy Goblin expert? Although...I've always wanted to shag a Weasley? What? What is this 'although?'"

Remus chuckled at his mate's slightly miffed possessiveness. "None of the above. I was only going to say that he's about the right height."

Sirius snorted. "Hmph. So is Snape. I hope something more than mere height attracts you. Although Bill dresses better than Snape, and his fang-bedecked accessories are probably more appealing to you than those belled ankle cuffs you rabbited on about this morning." Sirius'

voice grew more thoughtful. "But, with that hair, Bill has to be careful what colors he dresses in. If he wore that yellow plaid thing from the magazine, people would run screaming in the other direction."

Remus rose up on one elbow to stare accusingly. "And just how much attention do you pay to Bill Weasley's wardrobe?"

Sirius smiled much too innocently. "Oh, not much. But he does have exquisite taste in boots."

It was the way he said it. Boots. His tone, the way his lips formed the word, the slightly drawn out hiss at the end, all made Remus want to lick his lips. Or Sirius' lips. Someone's lips. It didn't matter whose. He leaned close to his lover whispering, "Boots. Yes. Dragonhide boots. Boots that show off the graceful arch of your foot right below your ankle. Boots that fit you like a second skin, all supple and smooth and tight." His tongue couldn't resist teasing along Sirius' lower lip. He heard a quick intake of breath as the responsive mouth beneath his moved to kiss him again. Remus tipped his head so that their lips barely brushed together and murmured, "If I had boots

like that, would you lick them for me?"

"From heel to toe and back again," Sirius purred. The gleam in the gray eyes was unmistakable. He meant it. Remus quivered deep inside, and dove headlong into his lover's endless kiss. He could never tear himself away from this man.

But, duty finally prevailed over pleasure. It was getting late and Remus knew he simply had to get some sleep if he was to be at all coherent at his meeting tomorrow. Or, rather, later today. He

extinguished the candles and nestled close to Sirius. Sirius' lips brushed against his hair. "I love you."

"Love you, too, you sexy beast."

"Will you be home in time for dinner?" Sirius murmured in his ear, his voice foggy with approaching sleep.

Remus grinned wickedly. "If I stop to purchase some boots, I may be a little late."

"I'll be waiting."


End file.
